Peanut Butter and Love
by hopelesslyhalfhearted
Summary: Love is the master key that opens the gates of happiness. Oh, really? His love seems like the padlock that keeps them shut. H/N ONESHOT.


Nikki Alexander is not a stop on the way - she's a destination.

It had been six months since Dawn had moved in. Six months of awkwardness with Nikki. Somehow he'd been naive enough to think everything would carry on as normal – that the drunken kiss they had shared, in a moment of loneliness, during the office Christmas party, wouldn't matter. When Dawn called the next morning, saying she missed him and was moving back to London, he didn't even think about the events of the night before as he arranged a date.

He had trouble understanding why on earth he had acted like that. The 'good' part of him, the part that didn't want to break Dawn's heart, the part that didn't want the past year to have been a waste of time – that part said that it was because he loved Dawn. He loved Dawn. He didn't need to think about anything when it came to her. He loved Dawn.

But no matter how many times he repeated the three words, something didn't seem right. Each time seemed more forced and fake than the time before. He knew why he'd done it. He knew exactly why he'd done everything.

He was a coward.

Dawn was stable, consistent, kind and if it didn't end up as happily ever after, he wouldn't have to see her anymore – he wouldn't have lost anything from before the relationship. Nikki was his best friend. What if things did go wrong? He couldn't see himself recovering from that. There were too many "what if" questions with Nikki.

What if he'd made a move earlier?

What if the Penny 'incident' hadn't happened?

What if he had decided to act on his feelings straight after that kiss?

What if he'd given Dawn the speech he'd recited in his head and scrawled out onto numerous pieces of paper?

Harry tried not to think of the what ifs surrounding Nikki, if he spent too long pondering them he knew they would drive him insane.

It was a simple speech, full of words he desperately wanted to speak, but all had been left unspoken. He wasn't sure if it even classed as a speech, seeing as he knew he would never have the guts to say it to her. He wondered whether it would be more realistic to call it a letter, but then he realised not even the cruellest of men would be able to deliver such harsh words without being face to face.

Taking the scrap of paper out of its hiding place, Harry read through it a few times. He'd done this every day for 2 weeks – he'd sit waiting for her to come home, telling himself today would be the day. Fear and guilt stopped him. She had done nothing wrong. And, anyway, he had way of knowing whether Nikki actually liked him, if she didn't he'd have thrown away a great thing for nothing. He couldn't risk losing everything just because he'd decided he was in love with his best friend.

It was not often that Harry drank more than just a bottle of beer, but tonight seemed especially unbearable to him. Slipping into a state of alcohol induced over-confidence had been easy, the shared bottle of wine at dinner, combined with the 2 lagers from before she came home, was ample enough to make him pluck up the courage.

"We need to talk." He let go of his knife and fork, before staring straight into her eyes. "I..." He'd never seen her look so worried. Suddenly the courage was gone and he had to stare at the ceiling lamp.

"Harry?" He wondered if she'd sensed something had been wrong, was there any way she could expect it?

"I don't..." He was trying to find an angle to approach the subject at. "Do you think this is working?"

"I don't know. Do you?"

"I..." He swallowed. He had to do it now. "No." He noticed her taking small, sharp intakes of breath. She always did it when she didn't want to cry at a film in public. He looked down at the piece of paper he'd taken from his pocket. "You're great. And one day, you'll find a..."

"I don't want to hear it." What? He'd spent ages rehearsing. He needed to make sure she knew it wasn't her fault. "The whole, 'it's not you, it's me'."

"Dawn..."

"Good job my flat hasn't sold yet, eh?" She slowly pulled the napkin from her neck and gently placed her knife and fork down neatly on her plate. He wasn't sure what he was meant to do. He felt his stomach churn inside him.

He'd actually done it.

* * *

He found himself wondering if he'd done the right thing. Maybe he did love Dawn after all. She'd handed back her key weeks days before, so when he heard footsteps behind him, he knew there was only one person it could be.

"Harry, this has to stop."

He looked up from his book. His mother was standing there with her_I-better-more-than-you-know-yourself-so-listen-up _look.

"What has to stop?"

She motioned with her hands. "This Harry. This shell of my son who seems to either be completely consumed in his work," She pointed at the book, an in depth study into Gastrointestinal Pathology "Or regretting something so much that his life has stopped almost completely." She was right. He hated when she was right.

"I'm fine, Mum, really."

"You've always been bad at lying." She smiled at him. "Talk to her. Tell Nikki while you still have the chance."

Harry was in shock. He had never uttered the way he felt about Nikki anywhere but in his mind - and yet his mother knew. "How - how'd you know?"

She chuckled. "Harry, I'm your mother. You've wasted years pining after her."

"What if she doesn't love me back?"

"How will you know if you don't tell her? Don't let fear hold you back."

* * *

Harry almost dropped the letter – if it could be called that, it was only 7 words long - into the slot, but stopped himself. What if she didn't love him back? What if she didn't want him anymore? What if...it was too late?

He sighed, dropping his arms down to his side and turned around to go back into the office. He was too cowardly to say it to her face, for fear of rejection, and now he was even too cowardly to send it in a letter. He mentally kicked himself.

"Where do you think you're going?" someone said behind him."Nothing takes the taste out of peanut butter quite like unrequited love."

"Leo?" he said barely above a whisper. "What did you say?"

"Don't wait. Whoever you decide, don't wait to tell her – the woman you've always had second thoughts about." Leo paused for a moment. "Or Nikki." He walked closer to his younger colleague. "Harry, sometimes you get a lifetime with the person you love, and sometimes...sometimes they're taken away from you far sooner than you could ever imagine." He turned away and walked towards his car.

Taking a deep breath, Harry walked to the post box and slipped the letter inside. He felt a weight lift off of him as he heard the letter fall in - though he did wonder what Leo meant about unrequited love and peanut butter.

* * *

Nikki sat sorting through the pile of letters that had stacked up. Junk. Junk. Bank. Junk. Bank. Junk. Nectar point vouchers. Junk. Handwritten?

Nikki recognized the handwriting immediately, countless amounts of her paperwork had been finished off by the same messy scrawl when she had been sick. She carefully prised open the seal, careful not to rip it. Why on Earth would he send her a letter when they see each other almost every day?

_Nikki,_

_It has always been you._

_Harry_

At first, Nikki was not sure how to react. They'd were best friends, nothing more, unless she counted the brief period before Penny, which she didn't...but that kiss. It would be a lie if Nikki said she had not thought about Harry in _that_ way since the encounter, even more so since his split from Dawn, but she refused to be his rebound. There was too much to lose.

Nikki took out a pen, and scribbled some words on a piece of paper before shoving the paper into an envelope and addressing it. Normally, if she had their address, she would email replies to letters but this was special.

* * *

It had been over a week since Harry had sent his letter and there was still no reply. He was beginning to think there never would be one. She moved on, he decided. She didn't want to be with him and now it was his time to move on.

Trudging inside his messy home, Harry decided he spend the night getting some work done, as opposed to pining over Nikki and wondering what the hell peanut butter had to do with love. Then something made a sort of crinkling sound beneath his foot. He looked down to see an envelope, the address written in carefully crafter swirly writing.

He opened the letter quickly - like removing a plaster.

_Harry,_

_Took you long enough._

_Nikki_

**Ok, so sort of an open ending. Interpret Nikki's response anyway you like.**


End file.
